Teaser Tuesday - Mystic Taxi

Eunice narrowed her eyes. "Something happen in the cemetery?" Her gaze dragged down to the ripped sleeve of Henry's coat, the fabric stiff with dried blood. "I noticed the rip before, but it wasn't bleeding then. What happened?"

After he gave her the gory details, including his episode in Wanda's kitchen, she said, "You're marked forever now."

"Forever?" he asked.

"Anyone who survives the sickness carries the Ghost Scar." She jerked a nod. "You've got one."

The implications of such a mark were disconcerting. "But what does it mean, exactly?"

She slipped the trap back in the box. "The nasty ghost energies will be attracted to you from now on. They'll want to be near you, to touch you." She shook her head. "Have Mystic with you at all times, if you can. She'll take care of them."

"What if she doesn't?"

Eunice shrugged. "You'll get cut or bitten, and then you'll get the sickness again. It's curable as long as you have the antidote close at hand."

Damn. More salt burns.

She went to a wooden chest in the corner of the basement and opened the lid. After digging inside, she pulled out a small leather pouch tied to a leather string. "I'm going to put an Imp in this pouch that I want you to keep around your neck at all times. Even while you're sleeping."

Henry hated wearing anything around his neck. That's why he never wore a tie. "Do I have to?"

"Only if you don't want to become an insane psychopathic killer again." Eunice stepped toward a wall sconce that burned brightly. "You can have this Imp," she said, gesturing at the lamp. "Call it out for me, please? And direct it here." She opened the pouch.

Henry focused his will on the Imp, letting it know what he wanted it to do without making it an order. The sconce light faded to darkness, then an orange wisp of energy streamed to the pouch in Eunice's hand. She closed the drawstring, said a few words in a language Henry didn't understand, and tiny sparks flickered out the top of the pouch. She handed the necklace to Henry. "Put it on before you attract trouble."

He arched one eyebrow and slipped the necklace over his head, tucking the pouch inside his shirt. His neck was already starting to itch.

Teaser Tuesday - Mystic Taxi

In this excerpt from Mystic Taxi, the villain finally makes his evil intentions known to his pawn.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Max stood a little straighter. "I won't help you commit genocide."

The smile slid slowly from Jasper's face. "I'm afraid you have no choice."

Now the boy's over-sized head turned red, his brows furrowed in anger. "You can't make me do anything I don't want to do."

"You're mistaken, son." Jasper snapped his fingers and two large spawnsters, one with rat-like features and the other more lionesque with horns, entered the ballroom carrying two machines that looked like giant typewriters.

Max pointed at them, his finger shaking. "Those are my father's inventions! They're his D-Mail machines."

"Is that what they're called?" Jasper motioned the two men to set the machines down. "Fascinating. Your father has made some amazing creations."

The boy looked frightened, as well he should. "How do you know about my father's creations?"

"Because they're mine now." He turned to his goons, hands on hips, and demanded, "Report."

"The entire building is probably ash and rubble by now," the ratty spawnster said.

"And Vernon Paine?" Jasper asked.

Ratman shrugged. "Didn't see him come out. I assume he went down with his ship."

"No!" Max yelled, and lunged for Jasper, but the lionman grabbed him, picked him up, and slammed him into the reclined chair. Max was undeterred. "Where's my father. I demand to see him. Now!"

"He's dead," Jasper said, enjoying the taste of the word on his tongue. "And your grandmother is next on my list."

Max's eyes filled with tears, but he did well at holding them back. He even held his tongue. What could he say? His entire family was gone. Well, almost gone. Two down, one to go. Henry wasn't much longer for this world if Jasper had his way.

Marketing Monday

Lots of stuff going on lately and I should have posted earlier because I actually have something to report for a change!

I had a wonderful phone meeting with my agent last Wednesday. We talked for an hour, mostly about what project I'll work on next. Until either Knight's Curse or Mystic Taxi sells, she doesn't want me writing their sequels. Plotting them out is okay, which I've done, but she prefers I not write the books and instead start on something completely new. But what?

I have lots of half-baked ideas, but only one that's nearly ready to pop from the story oven. It's different from what I usually write, though still bizarre, except that it's more magical realism than urban fantasy and would fit better in the category of women's fiction. Kind of a cross between Fannie Flagg and Alice Hoffman. Anyway, after I'm finished revising Mystic Taxi, I'll write the first chapter of this totally new book and send it to my agent for her feedback, then go from there. Maybe by then we'll have a sale and I can start on a sequel book. Fingers crossed!

My big happy news is that Mystic Taxi is a finalist in the Hearts Through History contest, Romance Through the Ages, in the paranormal category. Woo hoo! :) I got the call from the contest coordinator last week and received my scores today. Wow, I think I'll frame them. The judges had lovely comments, and two gave me 150 out of 150 possible points, while the third gave me a 148. So awesome! I love it when someone says they enjoy reading my book. And they love Henry! The big lovable brute is a heartbreaker, all right, but definitely not your typical hero. He has scales and pointed ears.

I'm going to teach a beginners Adobe Illlustrator course for our local community college this winter. I've also been asked to teach a plotting workshop for the Central Oregon Writer's Guild. This will definitely keep me busy, but will bring me barely enough income to buy kibble for my dog. I'm still working on finding more projects! See samples of my design work here.

Kinsey graduated from obedience school last Tuesday, then got her girly bits snipped last Thursday. You'd never know she just had major surgery. Sigh. She's popped one staple from her sutures, and another one is hanging. She gave herself a mud bath yesterday and got her wound dirty. This dog won't stop! I'm taking her to the vet today so he can have a look.

I better go back to searching for work between bouts of editing Mystic Taxi.

Teaser Tuesday - Mystic Taxi

Most of this will be cut from the book, per my agent's suggestion. Here's your once in a lifetime opportunity to read it before it becomes hard drive chow. Ha! :)

The following is an excerpt from my steampunk urban fantasy, Mystic Taxi:

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Eunice prayed her old ticker would keep on ticking as adrenalin sung through her veins. The lever at her back still hadn't moved an inch and Jasper's thug was plodding down the stairs toward her.

Sylvester leapt from her arms.

She lunged to grab him, but she wasn't fast enough. The clockwork cat scuttled across the floor on its wood and cable legs, the visible gears on its sides spinning to make it move. It sprang for the stairs and landed on the step just below her tormentor. The spawnster's heel slid across the cat's metal back and kept on going, both his feet leaving the stairs while gravity forced him to crash-land on his butt. He continued sliding down feet first, his head thumping against every step along the way. He collapsed in a lump at the bottom.

Dear, oh, dear. Eunice choked in a relieved breath, thankful to her faithful cat for saving her from the brute, but there was nothing to celebrate yet. Hellspawn recuperated fast, and this one would be good as new before she could say Cock Robin. In fact, he was already stirring. Think, think, think, Eunice. She needed a spell that would paralyze him, but all her spells were in the upstairs pantry. The only one close at hand was the potion she'd been working on. The Snit antidote. What would it do to a spawnster? There was no time to consider. She'd have to take a chance.

The spawnster sat up slowly, his rat-like whiskers protruding from the sides of his face like antennae. He twitched the long wiry hairs and shook his head like a dog shaking water from its back.

Eunice grabbed the beaker, its contents still boiling, and threw it at the ratman. He screamed as his shirt erupted into flame, but it couldn't be the fire that hurt him. Spawnsters thrived in fire. Even so, he was definitely hurt because his scream abruptly changed to sobs.

"Goodness me, Sylvester," Eunice said to her mechanical pet. "I do abhor torture. I only meant to stop him from coming after me. The poor thing."

But the spawnster shook his head. "It's not my body that hurts," he said between sobs. "It's my heart. I've been such a bad, bad spawnster. Evil. Cruel." He wailed and Eunice plucked a lace-edged hanky from her apron pocket. Careful not to get too close, she reluctantly handed it to him. "Thank you," the ratman said, and blew his nose.

Marketing Monday

No news from editors still considering KNIGHT'S CURSE. This waiting is killing me.

But my agent got back to me last Friday with her revision notes for MYSTIC TAXI. I've got a lot of work ahead of me. I agree with all her suggestions, except for one. She wants me to remove a plot point that I'm rather partial to because I think it helps support what happens at the end. She's going to call me on Wednesday to discuss my next project so I'll also talk to her about this plot point she wants me to take out.

I finally read a good book I really enjoyed! It was a memoir, and that's unusual for me. I typically stick to fantasy, but this memoir is written by a friend who had a hellish childhood. The book is called THE UNBREAKABLE CHILD (by Kim Richardson) and it's about how she grew up in an abusive orphanage run by catholic nuns. Such cruelty and hate is shocking, especially from those claiming to be brides of Christ. God would never knowingly allow children to be treated so horribly. It's a horrific story that's well written and brutally compelling.

Oh, yeah, I almost forgot. I won an Honorable Mention for my little microfiction piece I wrote for Jenny Rappaport's Twitter fiction contest. Hee hee! I won a book called RED by Jordan Summers. It's always fun to win free stuff, even if the book is about werewolves and vampires. Not a big fan of those particular monsters, but I'll leave my mind open for it to be great!

I've been scouring Craigslist for freelance jobs. There's a lot out there, but most deal with web design, which I'm not especially proficient at. I'm uber fine with Photoshop, though. There was a great job for a company in California that needs Photoshop artists. I could do that

Kinsey graduated from her puppy obedience course today. Yay! She wasn't very obedient, though. She usually listens well when it's just the two of us at home, but put her in a store filled with dogs and people--two of her favorite things--and toys and treats, and it's like turning a toddler loose at Kiddyland. My hand is still sore from hanging onto the leash. I think it's just going to take extra time for my Pupzilla to grow up and pay better attention around distractions. She's too ADD to train in the Petsmart environment.

Okay, back to searching Craigslist and sending out more resumes. I posted more samples of my work at my design website, and added a new category for my Photoshop work.